Magnum Opus

The Despot stood aghast in the dining room. He turned and turned, marveling at the convection and convulsion of the world around him. Turning his attention to the wailing beast, he rose a hand and projected himself upon it. The Tetrachromat resisted the Despot, bucking and reeling against it’s masters influence. Forced back by the beasts immense power, the Despot rose his voice among the resonance.

“Kneel!”

The command reverberated through the room and beyond, but the Tetrachromat did not acquiesce. It extended it’s long talons and swatted at the Despot’s form. Evading, the Despot raised both hands, and spoke again, this time with much greater exasperation.

“You will kneel!”

This time, the leathery wings of the beast receded, and its body crumpled to the floor. It let out a small whimper as the world around it regained its form. In awe of the power of his creation, the Despot gave a wide and toothy grin.

“For someone so weak to carry the seed so far, we really ought to be grateful. We owe you our future, past and present.”

The Despot continued,

“For eternities, we tried to open the lock, day by day we probed it constantly. But, something was not right, our key never took proper shape.”

The Despot eyed the Tetrachromat,

“But you are our key now, and with you we will fly on wings of Infinity. Come now!”

The Despot strode with renewed vigor, and proceeded down long halls, and great winding staircases with the Tetrachromat in tow. Finally, the pair descended down to the core of the castle. With a wave of the Despots hand, the bricks that made up the pillar shrunk from it, and parted. Proceeding into the Inner Cell, the machinery, both scientific and thaumaturgical, hummed and beeped as they worked. The Despot eyed the center of the sanctum, an empty pad between two great pylons. The Despot did not speak, only did it raise a hand, a finger extending toward the vacancy. The Tetrachromat skulked past, and stopped in front of the nexus. The Despot rose both arms into the air, and spoke with great drama.

“Now, my great creation, my magnum opus, part the seas of the material! Throw off the shackles of causality!”

The Tetrachromat rose onto its hind legs, and splayed its wings from its back. As it’s arms rose into the air, its mandibles opened, and began to shake. From its mouth came a great and guttural howl, the familiar instability of reality returned, and intensified. On the pad, a small vortex began to take shape. As it grew in volume, it began to release great waves of energy, threatening to tear both the Depot and Tetrachromat if they were not careful. From the Despot’s hands, great bolts of lightning began to form, and arc to the pylons. As the rift grew bigger, the space it displaced began to fold and consume, forming familiar black waves. As the schism reached critical mass, the Despot yelled in exasperation, and two great bolts of lightning danced between the pylons, and then to the vortex. The lightning reacted and fought with the waves, both forces grappling for dominance. With one final push, lightning arced from the pylons across the room, dancing between the machinery, frying it near to a crisp.
    When the Despot opened its eyes, that familiar maniacal grin spread across its face. The only remaining light in the room was the gateway, emanating yellow into the Cell. The Tetrachromat laid at its feet, barely breathing, burnt and spent. Stepping over it, the Despot approached the portal, and extended two arms around it. Tapping into the phenomenon, the Depots lightning tuned it across the spectrum. The Despots eyes were set alight by the things they saw. A great hulking beast, a cosmic starchild. An emaciated scavenger, and a man cloaked in blue glowing wire. The great repository of power was nearly overwhelming, but rather than fear, the Despot was in ecstasy. Turning from the nexus, the Despot looked again upon the Tetrachromat.

“With this, we will build our crusade. And under my banner, we will rip the malevolent God from his crumbling castle.”